February 2017

02/27/2017

Katie Brenner sees perfection all around her, except in the life she is living. As a junior brand associate, "Cat", her new self-proclaimed identity, is looking to take the branding world by storm. But first, she needs to figure out how to survive among her cut-throat co-workers and her uber stylish boss. Demeter Farlowe has everything Cat thinks she wants in life... a fabulous career, husband and kids, an expensive house plus a staff of workers at her beck and call. Just when Katie thinks her life may be turning around, Demeter does the unthinkable, she fires her.

With no plausible job prospects in sight, Katie returns to Somerset, her family's countryside estate, to help her dad and step-mom open a vacation retreat. Using her savvy branding skills, she markets the farm's glamping site to snooty Londoners looking for a vacay experience in harmony with nature. With Katie's keen eye for business, the resort becomes a hit attracting an unexpected visit from the one and only Demeter and her family for a week's stay. Coming face to face with the bane of her existence proves to be a match made in glamping heaven. Her self-absorbed ex-boss doesn't even recognize her former employee which Katie uses to her full advantage. What transpires between these two strong women brings tears of laughter and joy to the listener.

My Not So Perfect Life: A Novel is a hilarious take on today's corporate world as well as the dating scene. Kinsella brilliantly explores what true happiness means through her quirky, yet lovable cast of British characters. The narrator performs a brilliant interpretation of Kinsella's wicked sense of humor leaving the audience in stitches. This must-read romantic comedy about the online world in which we live left me giddy with laughter.

02/14/2017

Behind the posh British accent, Dylan Hale possesses a down-and-dirty sexiness. Off-the-charts gorgeous, a ruthless architect . . . and did I mention he's a future duke? Every time we touch, it's wildfire. All need and lust and heat. But Dylan has rules: just sex, no one can know, and in the bedroom he gets complete control. All I have to do is follow the rules, because falling in love with Dylan Hale is all it would take to screw everything up . . . royally.

Parker Swift grew up in Providence, Rhode Island, and then grew up again in New York, London, and Minneapolis and currently lives in Connecticut. She has spent most of her adult life examining romantic relationships in an academic lab as a professor of social psychology. Now, she's exploring the romantic lives of her fictional characters in the pages of her books. When she's not writing, she spends her time with her bearded nautical husband and being told not to sing along to pop music in the car by her two sons.

We weren’t a foot inside when he closed the door behind him and said, “Turn around, damsel,” indicating I should face away from him. I complied, and he slowly came up behind me, running his hands along my bare upper back and down my arms. He unzipped the dress and pulled it off my shoulders so it pooled at my feet. I was naked except for my insanely high heels. Grabbing my hips, he pulled my naked ass into his front, and I could feel his hardness pushing against the seam of his trousers. “Can you feel how much I want you? How much I want this?” he said firmly, increasing his grip on my hips, pulling me even closer.

I tilted my head back and to the side to try to steal a glimpse of him, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His hands wrapped around and palmed my breasts. He pushed them in and up, molding them in his palms, and he began to tug at my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and finger, teasing them to the point where pain met pleasure.

“I’m breaking all sorts of rules for you, aren’t I?” He was kissing my neck, sucking my skin, nipping it gently between his teeth, devouring me in motions that mimicked what he was doing to my breasts.

“What rules have you broken for me?” I asked, practically whispering, searching for steadiness in my breath.

He spun me around and lifted me by my ass in one swift move. I locked my ankles behind his back. “For starters I rarely sleep with the same woman twice, at least not in the same week. I don’t spend the night. Ever. And neither do the women I see. And I don’t invite women into my office. Ever. But I couldn’t resist with you. I’d been dreaming about having my mouth on that pretty pussy on that table for weeks. Picturing you just as you were.”

“Did it live up to the dream?” I nuzzled into his cheek, desperate to get to a place where he was naked, where I could feel his skin on my skin.

“The dream didn’t stand a chance.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you breaking any of your rules, would I? I mean, maybe we better stop now, and you could sleep on my sofa. Or you can get back on your horse—”

Hidden in Graystone Manor is a book containing all the dark secrets of Harmony Harbor, and Ava DiRossi is determined to find it. No one—especially not her ex-husband, Griffin Gallagher—can ever discover what really tore her life apart all those years ago. With Griffin back in town, it's more important than ever that she find the book before someone else does. Because her ex is still angry with her for leaving him. And he still has no idea Ava never stopped loving him...

Ava is no longer the vibrant, happy woman Griffin had once loved and married, and he would do anything to bring back the sparkle to her brilliant green eyes. But what's never changed are the sexy sparks of attraction between Ava and Griffin, and he won't give her up again without a fight. He knows there's the real possibility of a future together...if the truth doesn't burn the bridge between them forever.

Debbie Mason is the USA Today bestselling author of the Christmas, Colorado and Harmony Harbor series. Her books have been praised for their "likable characters, clever dialogue and juicy plots" (RT Book Reviews). When she isn't writing or reading, Debbie enjoys spending time with her very own real-life hero, three wonderful children, two adorable grandbabies, and a yappy Yorkie named Bella in Ontario, Canada.

Her gaze shot to the door. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Griffin was here. Now. Outside the door. She shot to her feet, shoving the candelabra in front of the fireplace.

Meow.

She’d trapped Simon. She grabbed the cat, put him on the floor, and scooped up the bucket and sponges while frantically searching for somewhere to hide. The balcony. She didn’t care if she froze to death; she couldn’t let him find her here.

As she turned to run, Ava heard the beep of the passkey. She wouldn’t make it. She spun around and ran the short distance to the bathroom. Her breath coming in panicked puffs, she stepped inside the bathtub and carefully inched the crimson and gold shower curtain across the rod. She sagged against the tile wall, praying his in a bit meant he’d drop his bags off and leave.

If it had been anyone other than Griffin, she’d pretend to be cleaning the room. But she remembered all too clearly the humiliation of being discovered by Griffin and his ex-wife the last time they’d stayed at the manor. He’d looked at Ava like he hadn’t known who she was, and his wife had asked for fresh towels, acting as though Ava hadn’t done her job.

And then there was the book. She couldn’t leave without it.

“How did you get in here?”

Her gaze jerked to the curtain, her heart beating double time. She let out the breath she’d been holding when the bed creaked. Simon. Griffin was talking to the cat. “Better question would be, what have you been up to? Your paws are black. Off the bed, buddy.”

Her toes curled in her shoes, a warm, fluttery sensation settling low in her stomach in response to the slow drawl of Griffin’s deep voice. He always spoke in that low, unhurried tone. Even when he was angry or when he was whispering how much he loved her or when he was talking her out of her temper. Only then there’d been a hint of laughter too. Her temper used to amuse him. He had a long fuse; she had a short one. She used to, at least.

Her lips curved at the memories; then her wistful smile faded when the consequences of what he’d just said penetrated her lovesick brain. Simon’s paws were dirty. All she’d need was for Griffin to start looking for the source. She had to…

There was the rasp of a zipper, then the light thud of something hitting the floor. At the sound of heavy footfalls approaching the bathroom, Ava’s eyes went wide, and she pressed her back against the tiled wall. A bare, muscled arm reached past the curtain, a large hand turning on the water. The cold spray from the showerhead hit her in the face, and a small, shocked squeak escaped before she could contain it.

Griffin whipped back the shower curtain. His thick, toffee-colored hair glistened under the fluorescent light, his dazzling, deep blue eyes wide in surprise. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in her throat as her eyes drifted down his body. He was completely and gloriously naked. And even more beautiful than she remembered.

02/01/2017

Comfort is a top priority for me, especially when it comes to my arthritic feet. That's why I choose to wear Crocs in place of slippers. First of all, these shoes are easy to slip my foot in and they have a wide toe bed which gives me plenty of wiggle room. Since we have wood floors in every room of our house, these shoes provide the extra support I need with my ankle and hip replacements. Plus, the price is right! Economical and therapeutic! Best of all, they come in lots of fun colors. To learn more arthritis tips, follow me on Twitter @JenniferVido and Instagram @jenvido. (This is not a sponsored post.)